


It Only Took an Almost Apocalypse

by Jay_Spank



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, M/M, This takes place after the bus ride to Crowley's house, damn I love oblivious gays, only one bed!, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 04:20:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19099621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jay_Spank/pseuds/Jay_Spank
Summary: Aziraphale stays the night at Crowley's because his bookshop burned down. The problem is that Aziraphale has never slept in a bed with someone for Six thousand years





	It Only Took an Almost Apocalypse

**Author's Note:**

> heyyyy, 
> 
> this is my first fanfic in a while
> 
> im a bit rusty
> 
> but this was fun
> 
> it is late and I did not proof-read the greatest, so apologies
> 
> Thank for reading!

Aziraphale stood in Crowley’s bedroom. He had never been here before. In fact, he had never been at Crowley’s flat ever. It’s not that he had never wanted to visit. It’s just he was an angel and Crowley a demon and Heaven wouldn’t much care for it, but now it didn’t matter he suppose. Heaven had much bigger things to be mad at him about. Staying at Crowley’s probably wouldn’t even make the list of things Gabriel would smite him for. Yet staying here was the only thing Aziraphale could think about and had thought about the whole way here.   
  
“ I can practically hear you thinking, Angel”  
  
  
“Hmm?” Aziraphale looked over to see yellow eyes staring at him. He hadn’t been listening at all.  
  
“What’s on your mind?” Crowley sighed, sitting on the bed.  
  
“Oh, nothing, just..um, admiring your walls,” Aziraphale lied, looking now quite intrigued with a baren grey wall behind Crowley, “it’s quite……….uh…”  
“Grey?”  
  
“Yes, grey! A bold choice from the usual black, my dear boy.”  
  
Crowley stared at the angel clearly not convinced, but instead of pestering him more Crowley began undressing himself, tossing his jacket to the black marble floor. The angel could feel himself blushing and then blushing harder at the idea that Crowley might just sleep in the nude. Now Heaven will definitely not enjoy that. Heaven as of the 16th century has taken a stand against most activities done in the nude or with someone who was nude mostly due to angels being incredibly squeamish towards any type of nudity, not Aziraphale as much for being on Earth for so long and one is bound to see a silly willy and vagie bagie from time time, but still.  
  
“Yes, mmm, well,” the angel said, clapping his hands together, “where is the guest room?”  
  
Crowley now just in a tank top and trousers, stood up and looked at him like Aziraphale had asked him to light the room on fire and dance the gavotte.  
  
“I have never had a guest in the thousands of years I have lived here,” He unbuttoned his trousers sliding them off, leaving him in a black tank top and matching boxer briefs and socks. Demons and angels were quite dedicated to their color palettes. Crowley sprawled on top of the bed, like a serpent in the sun , now staring at Aziraphale, “I guess, you’d be the first.”  
  
“Oh…..and all it took was the near apocalypse,” Aziraphale laughed nervously. Crowley just stared at him as he had never seen the angel try so hard to look anywhere but him. “So,” he cleared his throat, “ I don’t suppose you have a cot?”  
  
“I have a bed.”  
  
“Perhaps a sleeping bag?”  
  
“Aziraphale”  
  
“The floor then! “  
  
“Aziraphale!” Crowley now sitting up, “Heaven and Hell don’t matter anymore.”  
  
“Yes I know, but--”  
  
“ But what?! We saved the world together, Angel. You can share a bed with me.”  
  
The two stared at each other. Aziraphale face was unreadable as he himself could not manage to find the words to convey the feeling in his stomach. Finally, after what felt like eternity, Aziraphale began taking off his jacket.  
  
“I suppose you're right.”  
  
Crowley watched Aziraphale undress. His back was facing the demon, so he could not watch the angel’s hands shake. This was a lot for him. This situation. He was down in a white tank top and tighty whiteys, and had already folded his clothes, (twice). The angel was just thankful that Crowley hadn’t said anything. He probably looked quite ridiculous and it was one of Crowley’s favorite things is pointing it out when it happened. Aziraphale turned around and saw a passed out Crowley sprawled across the bed. This made more sense than Crowley having self-restraint.  
Aziraphale walked to the side of the bed that Crowley hadn't managed to take and stared at it tentatively. He had never slept with another being for all his six thousand years on Earth. It wasn't something the angel ever sought out. Aziraphale wasn’t against it, but he knew he couldn’t have it. He was an angel. Angels didn’t need company, but being an angel on Earth was a different story. Sleeping just made him feel a certain type of emptiness that consumed him. Which was one of the very big reasons why seldomly slept (that and also angels don’t need sleep. The holy material they’re made out of makes espresso look like a sleeping agent).  
  
Yet, after stopping a near apocalypse makes anyone tired, and Aziraphale broke his six thousand year long tradition. He tucked himself under the covers and took a deep breath. He was fine. This was fine. Aziraphale exhaled and closed his eyes, hoping he’d start believing it. He could feel Crowley move and Aziraphale closed his eyes tighter. He could feel the demon eyes.  
“Aziraphale?”  
  
“................” Maybe he’d think the angel was asleep?  
  
“Aziraphale, you’re crying.”  
  
The angel opened his eyes and moved his hands towards his face, Which was damp with tears.  
  
“Oh dear,” he laughed through is tears, “it seems that I am.”  
  
“Aziraphale,” Crowley whispered. He turned to his side and wrapped his arms around the angel, pulling him closer. Aziraphale stiffened. This was so foreign. He didn’t know what to do.  
“What’s wrong?” The demon asked while he played with the angel’s white curls, with his other arm tracing small circles on Aziraphale’s back.  
  
The angel's tongue caught in his throat, as every time he tried to answer he only began to cry harder. Crowley hugged him tighter, burying Aziraphale’s head into his chest.  
  
“It’s okay”, Crowley kept whispering to the angel through his sobs. He rubbed the back of the angel’s neck.  
  
Aziraphale had not experienced this level of affection and care. He had just now realized how much he had wanted, yearned for it. Now it was here and it was just so much. How does one handle being touched starve for 6,000 years?  
  
“I just, “ Aziraphale sobbed into Crowley’s chest, “ never thought this could happen.”  
  
“I didn’t either.”  
  
“All it took was a near apocalypse,” Aziraphale chuckled.  
  
“Thank you apocalypse.”  
  
“You’re the worst!”  
  
“But you love it!”  
  
Aziraphale couldn’t help but give him to his laughter. He couldn’t see Crowley, but he could imagine the small smile on his face. The two laid like this. The angel curled into the demon's chest and the demon tracing the words of everything he wanted to say until his arm began to grow numb under the angel.  
  
“Angel” Crowley said repositioning himself so that he could see the angel’s eyes, “ you know I love you?  
  
Aziraphale eyes widen. He had never seen Crowley this vulnerable to him. He didn’t even display this much of it to his bentley. The angel could feel his heart pound in his chest. Love was a complex word. Aziraphale would know. He had read a great deal of books about just how complex it was. Surely, Crowley meant not the same as he thought it.  
  
“You mean like friends?”  
  
Crowley gave the angel an astonished look, and closed his eyes like he was experiencing a mildly inconvenient headache.  
  
“Aziraphale, you can’t be that daft.”  
  
"Love is has multiple meanings!” the angel rambled.  
  
“Then what does this mean?” Crowley kissed Aziraphale. It was the most innocent kiss that Crowley had ever given and the only one with pure intentions. The angel gasped, and pulled back, like a deer in headlights.   
“Well?"Crowley asked trying his best to remain composed and not like he had put his metaphorical heart on the line.  
  
Aziraphale stared at Crowley.  
  
Crowley stared at Aziraphale.  
  
It was quite a intense moment. In fact the most intense moment the two have had together and they had both just recently fought with satan.  
  
“It means,” Aziraphale said, a small smile forming on his face, “that you love me.”  
  
If this was a different circumstance, Crowley would of pointed out that Aziraphale had just repeated that exact same thing he had said and was cheating, but in this case he didn’t care. He pulled the angel back in for another kiss.  
  
Aziraphale could feel himself crying again and began to giggle.  
  
“What’s wrong?” Crowley asked.  
  
“Nothing my dear,” Aziraphale said.He looked into Crowley’s eyes and smiled.  
  
“I’m just happy.”


End file.
